| The new face of African activism against homophobia |
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I fulfilled one of those expectations. Before I left Kenya, homosexuality was a word found in the bible and in Christian magazines. The magazines made the bible seemed reticent, as they claimed the anti-Christ would be homosexual. Homosexuality represented the anti-thesis of African Christianity. Indeed, when I turned to Jomo Kenyatta’s Facing Mount Kenya, the authoritative ethnography of the Gikuyu, my ethnic group, I discovered that homosexuality was “not practiced” among the Gikuyu, or so Kenyatta claimed. Not knowing any better, I had arranged my life: get an education, find a nice Christian girl, get married, have ten children, and settle into middle-class complacency. Imagine the shock to my system when, on landing in the U.S., my new-found friends asked whether I was “bisexual” or “gay.” Imagine my further shock when I responded, weakly, “I don’t know.” My life script was changing and, at nineteen, it was difficult to see around corners and to figure out which path to take. In the fifteen years since that moment, I engaged in what philosopher John Stuart Mill terms “experiments in living.” During the five years I spent in Pittsburgh, from 1995-2000, I spent many hours in dance clubs, enjoying the community of like-minded men and women who relished the pleasures of dancing to loud house music. A bridge year spent in the Northwest, first in Seattle. Washington, and then in Portland, Oregon, helped me transition from the still sexually awkward undergraduate I had been to being more sexually open. And the following seven years, spent pursuing my Ph.D. in English from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, helped to ground my fleshly impulses within a rich, emerging body of scholarship. All that time, though, I wondered about homosexuality in Kenya. I looked for personal ads from Kenya; tried to find gay Kenyans on chat sites; read any and all news I could find on homosexuality in Kenya. I started one blog, deleted it, and started another. At times, the Kenyan homosexual seemed like a fantasy, something I dreamed of. But something that could not exist. History is an encounter of surprises. In my absence, an entire cohort of bloggers, writers, and activists came to life. United by the desire to seek justice, assert their rights, combine pleasure and freedom, groups gay, lesbian, bisexual, transsexual, and intersex Kenyans have changed the very face of Kenyan activism. Young, energetic, courageous, provocative, and earnest, these Kenyans may not cohere ideologically—many different stances exist on a range of issues. But together they are changing Kenya. Over the next few weeks, you will meet some of those people, learn about their passions, their dreams, their work, and their lives.
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